


Shades of Pink

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Enjoy!, F/M, Fluff, Hetalia rarepairs, Historical Hetalia, History, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Character, One-Shots, Porn With Plot, Trans Character(s), but also some porn without plot, but also some stuff that isn't even porn, but also some that are plot-y, lietpol, oh well, polhun, pruspol, some smut, wow i'm bad at tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15086648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: One-shots (some two-shots) involving Poland and his various relationships. Some are AU and will be labeled as such, otherwise they're mostly nationverse. Some are smut, some aren't.





	1. Carnation Pink

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place just before the uprising of November 1830, Feliks and Toris get the rare chance to spend the night together after the commonwealth was dissolved and Poland's partitioners deliberately kept them apart.

Feliks craved the past, craved how the commonwealth had once allowed him to sleep in Toris’s safe embrace every night, to wake up next to him every morning, and to spend every last one of their waking moments together. No, it wasn’t craving. Craving was for sweets. He needed the past, specifically his marriage to Toris and the comfort of his companionship- of his love. 

All he had now was Austria, Prussia, and Russia. Each one felt like a handcuff that held tighter the harder he tried to slip away. There was no use struggling anymore, no use begging for sovereignty or the past or even just an alliance with Lithuania. He didn’t have the strength and no one would listen.

And he had those stolen moments during meetings, sometimes just a few minutes before someone started talking when they could try and have a conversation, sometimes hours at the hotel during the night. When they had those hours together, sometimes they had sex, but it became increasingly often that they didn’t. Instead, they would just hold each other and talk and maybe cry, but one of them would always have to sneak out just as the sun began to rise, because they weren’t supposed to be together. If it was Gilbert that caught them, they were usually safe. He wondered, sometimes, if he did it because he knew what it was like to be forced away from someone he loved. If it was Roderich, Feliks expected a scolding, but he could usually get away with that and nothing more. If it was Ivan, though, he’d certainly be punished, and this was why he had to be so careful. Ivan claimed it would hurt the people of Poland if he and Toris spent too much time together, and even though Feliks knew the claim was false and the separation just another way for the partitioner to control him, he never objected. To do so would be dangerous.

\--

The meetings that involved Poland usually were held in St. Petersburg, which was far enough that he’d have to spend the night at Ivan’s house. Of course, he hated having to be in such close proximity to one of the people who had destroyed the commonwealth, but at least there was a good chance Toris would be staying there too if he had been asked to come to the meeting as well.

They first saw each other while walking into the conference room, but the only thing they could exchange was a quick smile.

Long after the sun had dipped under the horizon and the only noise in the house was the scratching of Ivan’s pen against rough paper in his office, Feliks slid off his fully made bed and let his bare feet land soundlessly on the carpeting. He had removed most of his clothing and was just in a soft linen chemise that made him feel invisible, like a ghost. As he followed the path to the room where Toris always stayed, a path that he could have followed with his eyes closed, he felt like he was floating, like he was in a dream. He always felt like that, and he felt like those nights spent hiding under piles of blankets with Toris were also dreams, because they came so few and far between, and everything would have to end far too soon no matter how much he wished it wouldn’t.

It was no surprise that he found Toris sitting on the bed, a book in his lap. It was getting close to a century that they’d done this, so he’d learned to stay up and wait. 

“I totally missed you,” Feliks whispered as soon as the door closed. He quickly replaced the book in Toris’s lap and wrapped his arms around his neck, letting his hands tangle into his beautiful, thick brown hair.

“I missed you too,” Toris was fine with letting the book fall to the floor. It made a soft thud when it hit the ground and suddenly both of them fell still and so silent they could barely hear each other breathing. They were waiting for a sound, an indication that someone had heard the book, but there was no scrape of chair legs against the ground, no footsteps coming towards them. All it took was some gentle rubbing of Feliks’s back to get him to relax again and melt into Toris’s arms.

“Are you okay? What’s this from?” Feliks reached up towards a scar on Toris’s cheek that was new enough to still feel like the baby-soft petals of a flower.

“It’s nothing, it’s from Russia, you know how he can be,”

“He hurt you,”

Toris nodded and he let those soft, familiar hands brush over his skin, followed by a gentle kiss. Every single time he was hurt, he got the same treatment. Feliks would touch the scar like he was mapping it out, memorizing where it was and what it signified, and he’d kiss it as though the mere action would make it disappear or somehow make everything better.

After that they just sat in silence, Feliks playing with Toris’s hair and Toris tracing little designs onto his back. Despite usually being extremely talkative, Feliks was mostly silent for the time they spent together. He wanted- no, needed to imprint every moment into his memory and enjoy it all as much as possible. Neither one knew when, or if, they would get to do this again.

“We haven’t had sex in a while. I want to do it like, right now,” Feliks suddenly moved so his legs were wrapped around Toris’s waist and their chests pressed together. He wasn’t aroused, but he wanted to be. He wanted that closeness and warmth that came when they had sex. No, it wasn’t sex anymore because sex sounded casual and lacking. They had been together for nearly three centuries, they were making love. “I want to make love with you, because I love you,” he clarified what he’d said before and leaned forward so their lips brushed against each other and all of a sudden they were kissing.

Toris didn’t need to actually say anything, because he just laid back as they kissed and rolled over so he was on top of Feliks, and that said everything for him. They kept kissing, until he eventually pulled away so he could look at Feliks, and he just couldn’t take his focus away from his lover’s face; from his emerald eyes that made his heart twist with emotion and love. God, he loved Feliks.

Their first time had been awkward and nervous because they had both been so young, nations just coming into their own, with their physical ages only fifteen or sixteen. It had been beautiful, though, and they’d started to figure so much out about each other. Feliks had learned that Toris only liked positions that kept their bodies close together and let him look at his face, to make sure he was okay. Toris had learned that Feliks loved having his neck and his jaw kissed, and he’d always leave a few more noticeable bite marks right at the base of his neck, where they could easily be hidden.

Feliks wanted to keep his legs wrapped around Toris’s waist, pulling him as close as possible, but he felt the man above him shift so they could get undressed, and he dropped his legs, letting them spread open just a bit. Toris knew that body beneath him as well as his own, and closed his eyes to lean in for a kiss as he let his hands take over, sliding over Feliks’s thighs and under his nightdress, so he could push it up and over his chest. A pair of hands gently reached up to stroke his hair for just a moment, before Toris felt his shirt being unbuttoned and let his arms fall down to his sides so it fell to the floor, leaving his chest bare.

“I’m still angry about these,” Feliks ran his fingers over the mess of angry, raised scars on Toris’s back. They’d come from Russia, when it had taken Lithuania over after the dissolution of the commonwealth. There was still the same pained look on Feliks’s face now when he touched the scars that there had been when he’d first seen them as fresh injuries. 

“They’re just scars, just history, that’s all behind me now,” he realized then what he said, wondering if he should have added on a ‘no pun intended’, but it didn’t matter now because he could tell that Feliks was going to start blaming himself again, which he couldn’t let him do. It wasn’t just that it would ruin the mood, he didn’t want to see him so broken down about something that happened so long ago.

“But I could have like, fought harder, we wouldn’t be-”

Toris leaned in and kissed him to cut off the sentence, slipping one of his hands into Feliks’s and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything for the blonde to understand what he meant by the gesture. He forgave him, there was no use looking back at the past and now it was important that they just focused on right then and there.

The kiss pulled Feliks back into the present and he sat up a little to pull the chemise off and let it fall to the floor as well, on top of Toris’s shirt. Now, he was completely naked, but he didn’t feel vulnerable. Toris made him feel safe and confident with every part of his body, even the scars and all the little imperfections he’d sometimes spend hours scrutinizing. Feliks wished he could make Toris feel the same way. He knew he was insecure and no amount of love could fix that completely.

Moonlight poured in through the window and when Toris pulled back to take off his pants, it illuminated Feliks’s body and made his pale chest and halo of soft blonde hair glow, like he was some sort of supernatural being. “You’re so beautiful,” Toris’s voice was barely a whisper and he gently reached out to cup his lover’s cheek in his hand. At first, he’d been a little nervous, butterflies racing through his stomach, but seeing Feliks in all his ethereal beauty filled him with confidence and the intoxicating drug that was love. Three hundred years they’d known each other, and without fail Feliks looked more and more stunning each time he saw him.

It was Feliks who pulled Toris back down to him, their bare chests pressing together and his hips rubbing gently against Toris’s. “What do you want me to do to you?” Toris asked softly. Feliks had always been the one to initiate sex, but sometimes when they got distracted he’d need a slight nudge back to what they were doing. 

“I want you to fuck me,”

That was all he needed to hear. Toris whispered that he’d be right back and went to grab a bottle of lotion from the bathroom as quickly as he could. As soon as he returned, Feliks was in his arms, kissing his chin and neck and shoulders while Toris carefully pressed his first finger into him, stroking his back with his other hand and returning some of the kisses. 

At first, Feliks pressed his face against Toris’s shoulder and whimpered a little with every finger he added. Toris knew his body, though, and he knew just where to press his fingers so Feliks suddenly tossed his head back, mouth open in a silent moan. He was so much more expressive when they had to be quiet, trading his usual loud cries for digging his nails into Toris’s shoulders and gasping silently with every brush against his prostate.

“I need you, I need you Toris,” he whispered breathlessly, pressing his hips down to try and get more pleasure.

“I know meile, I know,” Toris pulled his fingers out and wiped them against the bedsheets before pulling Feliks as close to him as he could. He kissed him while he pushed into him, rubbing circles onto his shoulders to distract him from any discomfort. “Tell me when.”

Their eyes met for just a moment while Feliks leaned in to kiss him again, and again and again and again. He broke away only to nod to say Toris could move. At this, he started a gentle, slow pace. He knew Feliks could handle more, but wanted to take things slow anyway so he had an excuse for them to spend more time so intimately together. Nothing needed to be said anymore between them, Feliks just held tightly to him and let out soft gasps whenever Toris brushed against his prostate.  
Feliks’s back arched and his stomach pressed against Toris’s. He didn’t need to beg him to go faster because he already knew that was what he wanted. They made a good rhythm, the bed softly creaking in time with it. Feliks didn’t usually last long, not when he felt like he’d gone far past heaven and his entire body was burning with pleasure. He dug his nails deeper into Toris’s back and buried his face into his chest to muffle the moans he couldn’t help but let out as he came. Toris’s release followed by only a few seconds and they continued to hold each other after, bodies sticky with sweat and cum.

They didn’t bother to clean up after. That was a job for the next morning, since the rest of the night was meant to be spent enjoying each other. Toris pulled the blankets up over them and moved so he was spooning Feliks. Their hands intertwined almost automatically, as though magnets were holding them together.

“Kocham cię kochanie, bardzo cię kocham i chciałbym, żebyśmy mogli pozostać tacy na zawsze,” Feliks squeezed Toris’s hand and kissed each of his fingers, then the heel of his palm a few times for good measure. They stayed there until the first rays of sun began to shine over the horizon, holding each other and talking about nothing and everything, like how Feliks had seen a pretty horse a few weeks ago and how Toris was thinking about hanging new drapes in his bedroom. It was the light of dawn, though, that quieted them and filled Feliks with dread.

By now, Toris knew what to expect when they had to part, but that didn’t make it any less painful. There was so much uncertainty, they had no idea when they would be together next and what state they’d be in. His stomach twisted painfully when he felt Feliks shaking in his arms. He always tried to hide that he was crying, but it was useless. Toris knew him too well.

“I don’t want this to end either,” Toris murmured. Feliks turned around so they were facing each other. His cheeks were wet with tears and more threatened to spill over from his eyes. Even though Toris wasn’t usually one to be emotional, his vision blurred and he knew he was going to cry. It was all so unfair, how they never got to spend any time together and what time they did have was always cut so short. 

“I-I should go,” Feliks whispered. He could hear the people in the house starting to stir, footsteps creaking in the hall above them. Even though he said this, Feliks made no move to leave. He held onto Toris with one hand, the other brushing tears away from his lover’s cheeks. There was nothing worse than seeing him cry.

“Just stay. I don’t care if someone finds us, I’ll take the blame. I need you with me,” Toris knew he was probably making a bad decision, but he was more than prepared to take whatever punishment he was given for being with Feliks. Feliks knew this too, and it made him nervous, but if Toris wanted to make that decision himself, he was a grown adult and there was no use stopping him. Plus, he was relieved that he didn’t have to go so soon.

“I love you,” Feliks smiled and leaned in again to kiss Toris. This time it was wet and tearful, but that didn’t mean there was any less love in it. 

“I love you too.”


	2. Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prussia tries to apologize for how he's hurt Poland and Lithuania in the past.

_ Feliks winced at the knife pressing into his neck. It wasn’t actually cutting into his skin, but if he tried to escape from the person holding him, it would slice his throat open. Not that he could die from just that, it took a lot more to kill the personification of a nation, but it would hurt his people or his land, and the scar would be visible for the rest of his life. _

 

_ “I would never let a Pagan and a crossdresser defeat me. You’re both going to pay for invading me, just watch!” Gilbert pressed the knife harder against Feliks’s throat, causing him to whimper as his skin was cut into and droplets of blood began to appear, staining the blade and dripping down to the cape tied over his armor. Toris had made his whole cavalry retreat, which left the Polish army on its own to fight the Teutonic Order. Feliks found himself praying that his friend had some sort of plan or trick up his sleeve so they wouldn’t have to walk away defeated.  _

 

_ “And now your boyfriend is gone, you’re all alone with no one to help you. Poor little Poland,”  _

 

_ Feliks gritted his teeth to prevent himself from yelling at Gilbert. Toris wasn’t his boyfriend, he was his husband, after their monarchs had married and established a union between them. And somehow, he just knew Toris was going to come back for him like he always did. After all, this battle was as much for his dignity as it was for Feliks’s, after he’d endured decades of pressure from the Teutonic Order to convert to Christianity. _

 

_ As Gilbert continued talking and taunting him, Feliks started to notice the ground rumbling and a great thunderous sound coming closer and closer until it was so deafening that Gilbert dropped the knife and Feliks was able to wiggle out of his grasp. He looked up, and they were surrounded by knights on horses, proudly holding banners emblazoned with the Grand Duchy of Lithuania’s coat of arms. A few of the men in the cavalry backed up, clearing a path so someone could come forward to where the two personifications were standing. “Toris,” Feliks gasped softly, watching the brunette unsheathe his sword and hold it out, ready to attack. He’d been right, Toris had had a plan after all. _

 

_ “You were so busy monologuing that you forgot one of the most important rules of battle. Always check behind you,” as Toris said this, Gilbert pulled out his own sword, ready to attack. He had a stupidly overconfident grin on his face, which Toris couldn’t wait to rid him of. _

 

_ The Lithuanian forces started to move in, readying their swords as well. Feliks stood up and brushed some dirt off his armor, walking over to stand next to Toris and draw his own sword. Tense silence came between them and it felt like everyone was holding their breath. “Is your attack this time going to be as cowardly as it was the first time?” Toris asked, watching Gilbert’s expression change from calculated coldness to all-out fury. He swung his sword at Toris, but he was quick to defend himself and a loud clang sounded when their weapons met. All of a sudden, everything was thrown into chaos. Polish soldiers charged towards the Teutonic knights, followed by the Lithuanian cavalry. With his focus split between the personifications’ battle in front of him and the larger battle around them, Feliks noticed the Teutonic Order’s Grand Master fall from his horse as he tried to break through the lines of soldiers coming to attack his army.  _

 

_ “Give it up, Gilbert. You’re outnumbered and I just watched Liet’s soldiers kill your Grand Master,” Feliks said as he quickly blocked a blow from his opponent’s sword. The fighting around them had begun to die down, almost as quickly as it had started. Bodies of Teutonic knights covered the ground, staining the grass red with blood.  _

 

_ Despite what he was being told, Gilbert continued fighting. He was visibly weakened after his army had suffered such a loss, but he cared too much about preserving his own image to surrender and admit defeat. “You’re an idiot, you know that? I’m too awesome to give up. I still have a chance!” he punctuated his words by trying again to attack Toris. In response, he slammed his sword against Gilbert’s, making him lose his grip on it. The weapon fell to the ground and slid through the dirt until it was far enough away that trying to get it would leave him even more vulnerable. _

 

_ “You just lost your chance. If you give up now, we might take pity on you and only take captives, rather than putting all your remaining soldiers to their deaths,” Toris said. He didn’t actually have any plan to kill the Teutonic soldiers, since he didn’t like causing any more violence than was necessary, but the threat was enough to get Gilbert to turn around and start to walk away. He was too proud to show that he was angry, but inside the personification was boiling with fury. He’d get revenge against those two for embarrassing him like that. _

 

_ As soon as the Teutonic Order’s personification was gone and the Lithuanian and Polish soldiers had begun rounding up any survivors to be held as captives, Feliks turned to Toris, grinning widely. “You were like, amazing out there. That asshole had no idea what hit him and you totally saved me!”  _

 

_ Toris blushed a little at the praise, looking down. “It was nothing. I just couldn’t bear to let him hurt you,” he looked back up, reaching out to gently brush his fingers against the small cut on Feliks’s neck. It was mostly just covered in dried blood now, with a few streaks of it having dripped down from the injury. It looked worse than it really was, and Feliks reassured his partner of that.  _

 

_ “I’m fine, kochanie. It doesn’t hurt,” he glanced around to make sure the soldiers around them were occupied before leaning forward to give Toris a quick kiss. Even though they were married, they weren’t exactly supposed to be in love. That was something that had just happened when they’d met each other and Feliks had gotten comfortable with his new partner and they’d really started to like each other. _

 

_ “That’s good. Hopefully Gilbert won’t bother us anymore after this battle, he should have learned his lesson,” Toris replied. He spent a few more moments just standing facing Feliks, before turning so they were next to each other and could watch their respective troops gather up everyone who was left. Toris’s words had comforted Feliks immensely, as he now felt sure that this was the last time he’d ever have to deal with Gilbert attacking them or trying to convert their populations. _

 

Feliks was nervous. No, nervous didn’t begin to describe how bad the twisting of fear in his stomach was. He’d seen Gilbert plenty in the past century, but this time was different. They weren’t meeting at a formal setting, they weren’t surrounded by other nations or conducting business, he didn’t have Toris by his side to back him up or protect him. It would just be the two of them, in a bar. 

 

He didn’t know why he’d accepted the invitation. It had been vague, just a few texts from his former enemy asking to meet at a bar because he had something to tell him. Maybe it was an apology. Feliks had heard rumors that the disappearing personification of what had once been Eastern Germany (and Prussia, and the Teutonic Order) was trying to serve some sort of penance by reconciling with those he’d hurt. Still, he wasn’t planning on forgiving him. The memories of all the times Gilbert had hurt him were still raw and painful in his mind. Maybe it would take years for the pain to go away, maybe it never would. 

 

7:36. Germans were always known for their punctuality, Gilbert especially, but he was already six minutes late. Feliks sat at the bar on a rickety stool that was so tall his feet didn’t even brush the ground. It was cold, and he wondered for a moment if he should have worn a jacket over his dress or even just forgone it completely. After all, he was getting weird looks from some of the other people in there. It was like they’d never seen a man wear anything other than trousers. 

 

7:40. The bartender came over and asked for a second time what he wanted, so he went ahead and ordered a drink, just a simple martini he could sip while he waited. For a moment he wondered if Gilbert was actually there and he just hadn’t spotted him yet, but that was extremely unlikely. He was easy to pick out in a crowd, being a head taller than most normal people with unmissable white hair and red eyes. For that matter, Feliks was easy to find too. He wasn’t all that tall or physically distinctive on his own, but the outfits he wore called attention to him.

 

7:42. Feliks recognized a familiar face in the crowd, coming straight towards him. He set down the glass he’d been sipping from and stood up. Butterflies had been in his stomach before, but now they were an angry swarm of hornets. He wasn’t sure if he could do this anymore. As Gilbert neared him, flashes of painful memories came up in Feliks’s mind and it took a surprisingly large amount of willpower to keep him standing there. 

 

Gilbert had spent enough time around Feliks that he’d learned to read him. He could tell he was uncomfortable by how stiffly he was standing and the way he was biting down on his lip as hard as he could. The problem was, Gilbert was too egocentric to realize his past actions were what caused the other personification to be so uncomfortable around him. He wasn’t even apologizing to actually try to fix what he’d done, he was doing it because he expected to be forgiven and the bad parts of his history to be erased, so he could die with a good legacy.

 

“Hello Gilbert,” Feliks said. His voice was uncharacteristically stiff.

 

“Hey Feliks, how’s your boyfriend?”

 

“Husband…” Feliks’s voice turned to a mumble and his right hand wandered to brush his left, over where a wedding ring should have been. 

 

_ “You can’t do this! You can’t!” Feliks was shaking with sobs, struggling against the two men holding him. One had his arms around his middle, holding him in the air so he couldn’t try to run away. The other was holding his arm, trying to force his hand out of the fist it was curled into. Feliks was holding tightly to the ring, the silver one with an emerald in the middle that Toris said reminded him of the color of his eyes when he’d given it to him.  _

 

_ “Yes I can. I want a little souvenir from my trip to Poland, and I think this is perfect,” It was Gilbert who was speaking, Gilbert whose ivory hands were clutching at his, leaving deep, bloody scratch marks on his knuckles as he tried to pry his hand open. He'd never forgotten his promise to himself after the First Battle of Tannenberg- the promise that he'd get revenge on Poland and Lithuania for defeating him and making him look weak. Now he was getting that revenge. _

 

_ “No! Get off me!” Feliks twisted and tried to kick one of the men holding him, he didn’t care which one, but it was useless. He was smaller and significantly weaker than them both, after the commonwealth had been dissolved and the first two partitions taken.  _

 

_ “Don’t you get it? You’re not married anymore, you belong to me and Austria. Your ring belongs to me and Austria… but mostly me because he doesn’t want it,” _

 

_ This was why personifications weren’t supposed to fall in love. They didn’t have any control over who they were put with or separated from, and right now Feliks had no control over the fact that he was being taken away from Toris. The fact that they’d actually fallen in love with each other after a marriage that was just supposed to be for the good of their people was making the separation even more complicated.  _

 

_ “I still love Toris. I still love him and you can’t change that!” Feliks tried to yank his hand from Gilbert’s grasp, but that just made him lose his grip on the ring. It went clattering over the floor and Gilbert ran after it, grabbing the piece of jewelry and holding it up triumphantly before tucking it into the breast pocket of his uniform. At this, Austria let go of Feliks and he fell to the floor, sobbing. That was the last piece of his lover he had, the last tangible thing to remember him by. He had no idea when or if they would see each other again, especially with how messy their separation had been. _

 

_ “Get up, you look stupid down there,” Gilbert kicked Feliks in the side, but he didn’t react. “I said, get up!” he knelt down and grabbed Feliks by the arm, forcefully pulling him up so he was standing. “And stop crying. It’s fucking pathetic.” _

 

An awkward silence had lapsed between Feliks and Gilbert and they were both aware of people starting to stare at them.

 

“Look, Feliks, I wanted to apologize. I’ve done some bad shit and I feel bad for-”

 

He was cut off by Feliks throwing his martini in his face. “No, you don’t want to apologize. You totally just want to make things seem like they’re okay when they’re not,” he could feel the stares of the other men in the bar on him, burning hot. Normally he would have shied away from so many strangers, but he didn’t care about them. He wanted to end things with Gilbert once and for all now that he had no power whatsoever and any threats he made would be empty.

 

“You’re a selfish asshole. All you cared about was power, and Liet and I still haven’t recovered from everything you’ve done. Even though Liet and I got our governments back together and like, started taking the best care we possibly could of our people, we still have to see the damage you’ve caused all the time. Two hundred years is a lot of time, and we’ll never get it back. I hope you have to spend the rest of your life feeling guilty, and I hope when you die, the only thing you’re remembered for is the conflict and pain you’ve caused. If you’re smart, you’ll leave me and Liet alone from now on,” Feliks wasn’t playing, and that was evident in how serious his tone had become. He placed the empty martini glass back on the counter, but the bartender didn’t make any move to grab it. He, like everyone else around them, was too busy watching the exchange. 

 

Gilbert was glaring, alcohol dripping from his snowy white hair and off the end of his nose. “I came to say sorry, and this is how you treat me?” he grumbled, wiping his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. 

 

“Correction. You came to make yourself feel better at my and my partner’s expense,” Feliks stood and waited for a few tense seconds, mapping out the best path to the exit, before turning on his heels and leaving. Gilbert remained, dumbfounded and standing awkwardly in the middle of the crowd. It was silent for a few moments, before people started turning away, having lost interest.

 

\--------

 

The meeting had ended early, most of the countries too weary to argue any more about the refugee crisis. Everyone was still in the room, packing their things and lingering to chat with friends, when Feliks felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned around, eyes meeting the icy blue ones of Ludwig. He looked like he didn’t want to be there, and was holding a small wooden box.

 

“My brother wanted me to give this to you, he said he didn’t think you would want to take it from him,” he held out the box and Feliks took it from his hands, examining it before pressing his thumbnail under the clasp and letting it pop open. The first thing his eyes landed on was the emerald. It sparkled like it had when he’d seen it for the first time all those years ago. It was flanked by two smaller diamonds on either side, finished by a sparkling pure silver band. It was the ring.

 

“Oh my god, Liet, it’s the ring you gave me,” Feliks grabbed Toris’s hand, pulling him in to look at it. Recognition came across his face and he carefully took the box, examining the piece of jewellery. 

 

“It is,” he murmured, though he wasn’t fully invested in talking about it. Feliks could practically see that he was thinking about something.

 

He hadn’t expected, though, for Toris to keep holding onto the box as he lowered himself down on one knee in front of him. Their marriage had technically dissolved when Poland was partitioned, but for the sake of being together they still called each other husband and pretended they were married, since neither had consented to separate in the first place.

 

“Some couples renew their vows after they’ve been married for a while, but after six-hundred years, I think it’s appropriate for us just to get married again. Feliks Łukasiewicz, will you marry me… again?” He was holding the box open with one hand, offering the ring just like he had the first time he’d proposed all those years ago.

 

The room had fallen silent, everyone watching the couple. Feliks tried to speak but he couldn’t get the words out so he just nodded until he couldn’t anymore, hands pressed over his open mouth and tears starting to well up in his eyes. Toris stood up and hugged him, both of them leaning in to kiss. Maybe Gilbert really did feel sorry for what he’d done and wanted to fix things for them. If that was the case, he hadn’t completely smoothed everything over, but now Feliks and Toris had forever to get back the time they’d had taken from them.


	3. Paradise Pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic AU. Toris is stressed from work, and Feliks knows just how to make him feel better.
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The idea of a spa night sounded absolutely awful. The image that came to Toris’s mind was of bachelorettes getting drunk on mimosas with their hair wrapped in towels and cucumbers over their eyes. He could imagine his boyfriend wanting to do that, but there was no way  _ he _ would.

 

But Feliks had given him that pleading smile that he just couldn’t say no to, and that was why he was sitting on his boyfriend’s bed on a Saturday night, letting him braid his hair. If it were anyone else, Toris probably would have eventually gotten annoyed, but he loved this man for all his quirks and little habits and the amazing personality he hid under shyness. 

 

That was why he was fine with picking out ribbons for the ends of his braided pigtails (he chose a dark green that Feliks said looked good with his eyes), and why he was fine with letting him paint his toenails pink and his fingernails purple.

 

Feliks even convinced him to do his nails for him, and even though they looked nowhere near as good as the glittery acrylics he often got at a salon, Toris found that he was proud of his work.

 

As the night went on, he found that he was actually relaxing. Work had stressed him out recently, to the point that he’d snapped at others a few times and even canceled plans with a friend. He’d told Feliks about the pressure he was under, and that was what had prompted him to invite him for a spa night in the first place.

 

The best part came later, after their nail polish had dried and Feliks was laying with his head on his chest, and he asked if he wanted a massage. That was another thing he absolutely couldn’t say no to, and since he was already shirtless, Toris just rolled over onto his belly.

 

Feliks straddled him carefully, putting most of his weight on the bed but a little onto his boyfriend’s hips. He leaned in and kissed between shoulder blades, over an old scar that was crossed by tons of others marring the soft skin of his back. It seemed like whenever they were together, Feliks would lavish those parts of him with love, as if to say he was perfect because of his imperfections, rather than despite them.

 

It was a long time before the massage itself started, but Toris wasn’t complaining. He loved his boyfriend’s little rituals, how he paid attention to the parts of him that he didn’t know deserved attention. 

 

A pair of soft hands started at his left shoulder, and he exhaled softly when those hands found a knot of tension and gently smoothed it out. “You’re so tense, kochanie. You’re totally being overworked,” Toris felt a soft kiss against the nape of his neck punctuate the words.

 

“It’s worth it if I get treated like this when I come home,”

 

Feliks smiled contentedly and moved to his other shoulder, rubbing his palms in small circles where he knew his muscles were. When he was sure the area was relaxed, he moved to the middle of his back, hands working out tension and occasionally wandering back to the scars, tracing them or drawing little hearts over the raised lines in his skin. “I love you,” he paused and leaned in to plant another kiss, this time on the back of Toris’s right shoulder, “you’re my everything,” he reached a hand up to stroke through a bit of brunette hair that had come loose and fallen down to curl over the back of his neck.

 

His hands returned to follow along the gentle curve of Toris’s spine, down to his lower back. Just a gentle press of his fingers, trying to find any painful spots elicited a hiss from his partner. “Oh, kotku, you poor thing, you’ve been sitting in your desk chair like, way too much,” he gently pushed down the green plaid pajama pants and sensible black boxers Toris was wearing, just enough that he could see more of his back. He could tell he was putting too much pressure there by sitting for too long in hard chairs. “You need to sit on pillows, and get up every once in awhile to walk around,” he ran his fingers apologetically over his skin, lightly pressing to see where the tension was worst. 

 

That was where he started, patiently working through the knots and accompanying soft murmurings in Polish with kisses over his back whenever Toris made a noise of discomfort under him.

 

“That’s better now, isn’t it?” Feliks pulled away when he was satisfied with the job he’d done, and waited for his boyfriend to lay on his back so he could cuddle up to him.

 

“Thank you, mylimasis,” Toris turned to rest his chin on top his boyfriend’s head, and he felt intoxicated by the flowery scent of his shampoo. Feliks turned to wrap an arm around his side, their hands intertwining in a way he considered to be perfect. 

 

“Kocham Cie.”

 

“Aš tave myliu.”


End file.
